


VII

by Rainingsun02811



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Human Disaster Klaus Hargreeves, Multi, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-12-18 03:13:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18241247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainingsun02811/pseuds/Rainingsun02811
Summary: Vanya and Diego's relationship had always been complicated, never cold but always distant. But, when a single file is misfiled at the Commission's headquarters and five decides to play matchmaker, what can go wrong?





	1. Prologue: Deus Ex-Bad Bookkeeping

All it took was one file, one dusty old file tucked away in the back of the records room conveniently misfiled away from the prying eyes of the cameras all over the Commission headquarters.  Harold Jenkins, the one-eyed man five has been searching for throughout the decades of isolation was the one who caused the apocalypse by manipulating Vanya to the point of a mental breakdown by making her think she was worthless. The dark shelves and the dim lighting made him squint at the neat font fading on aging yellow paper.

 _She’s far from worthless._ He thought, _she’s the glue that held everyone together, even if we treated horribly._ A sigh escaped his lips.  _When she fractured, the entire team must have fallen apart without me to do damage control, even if they're too dense to see it._ Five’s stern mouth turned downwards.  _Especially Diego and Luther, those two were always to wrapped up in their own insecurities to notice simple things like that.  Especially Luther._  He took a deep breath, the scent of old paper filled his nostrils.  _Diego on the other hand never wanted the others to see how much he cared about them._

The only issue was that Vanya didn’t have powers, she was completely and utterly ordinary.  He was utterly lost on how Vanya could cause something so horrible, his sister who cried when they stepped on ants as kids and couldn’t stand to watch action movies because of all the violence when he was still around.  _And, if she did have them, they were probably too weak to use,_ he thought.  _Unless,_ he thought, a dangerous glint came to his eyes, _they’ve been repressed somehow._  It made his heart clench.

There were no mentions of her powers in the file, only vague references that brought up dim memories of a tuning fork ringing louder and louder until something, _glass maybe,_ he pondered, cracked as he would walk by his father’s office when he was small, and then Vanya suddenly getting sick and having to be quarantined.  Something he had always doubted was true.  He stroked his silver beard, his brow furrowed, his eyes hard as steel.

 _But why Harold though, why someone so out of control of himself?_ He sighed as he closed the file.  _Why not someone with a little more control over their impulses?_ He thought, _why not Diego?_  A little voice in the back of his head whispered.   _They were always close, in their own way, dancing around each other, using sharp words to distance themselves in front of the others._   Hazel eyes widened.  _That’s it, push them together, make them stop being idiots, and save the world._

The faint tapping of footsteps, drug him out of his thoughts.  He shoved the file under his shirt and went to his mission.  He had no time to lose, it was time to _go home._


	2. Chapter 1: The Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see Vanya and Diego clash, also Klaus is a nosy little shit.

Five appearing out of a vortex of Lightning was not the only shock Vanya Hargreeves experienced the day her father died, nor was Allison’s hug, Klaus’s apparent attempt at being cordial, Luther’s lukewarm reception to her, or even the fact that Diego even said a full sentence to her was just as big of one.  Albeit they were cold, burning ones that warned her to go, leave, before she got dragged into their sibling’s eternal drama, and got hurt in the process.  His concern and hurt at her book warring in his posture as he trotted up the hardwood stairs.

What shocked her most was that he _listened_ to her, curving his knife at the last second to graze Luther’s arm.

The only times he listened to her, or was openly kind, was when he stumbled into her apartment at 3 a.m. half delirious from whatever new wounds (and eventual scars) he acquired that night, his hair a mess, the dark circles under his eyes more apparent than ever, and bleeding onto her couch as she got up and grabbed her medkit hidden in the back of her bathroom cabinet out.  He wasn’t normally chatty when he came.  Normally he was too tired or hurt to really say much but a slurred and stuttered _th-th-thanks_ as his hazel eyes burrowed under her skin then move to her crowded bookshelf searching for anything new.

She had become an expert on stitching his wounds, cleaning the blood out of her couch, and deciphering his different silences.  He was lucky she always had a talent for stitching and that her stomach had strengthened over the years.

She still flinched when the knife grazed Luther’s arm, but it was the moment of eye contact when he threw his knife while she screamed _Diego, no!_ that sent a rush of relief through her.  The begrudging _fine_ in his eyes let her body relax temporarily.

It was the tightness in his shoulders, the way his eyes stalked Luther’s hulking form that told her she needed to do something and _quickly._   So, she resorted to the only way she knew, throwing verbal barbs until he responded with his own.

“You never know when to quit, do you?”  Her voice was stronger than she felt, strong confident, and in control.  _Focus on me, not him, I’m here he’s not.  I can handle it,_ she thought as scorching Hazel eyes met hers.  His posture still tight, ready to strike— _always ready to strike,_ she thought—relaxed ever so slightly.  Shifting his weight from his shoulders to his back.

His body moved closer to hers, heat radiating off him, and she suppressed a shiver.  She could almost feel his breath on her face.  “You have enough material for your sequel yet?” His voice matched his eyes, scorching, burning, and cutting through her like one of his knives.  _Go, run, get away from them while you can, you’ll only get hurt if you stay._   He seemed to say as she straightened.

Liquid heat rushed through her body as she held his gaze, _only if you calm down_ , she returned her thin jaw clenching.  “He was my father, too.”  The rain pelted his black coat.

If she were anyone else, the minute twitch of his hand and the clench of his jaw wouldn’t be a suppressed flinch, but a sign of anger.  She turned away, and walked inside, leaving the drab grey bricks and their adoptive father’s ashes behind for the warmth of inside.

Now she stood in the front room right where she started, knowing that Diego was right, _I shouldn’t have come._   She jumped when a hand touched her shoulder.

“So, what was _that_ all about?”  Klaus said, his words slurring slightly pulling her out of her musings.

“Huh?” was her reply.  _Brilliant response Vanya, good going._ She thought.

“You know, the _amazing_ display of sexual tension in the backyard with Diego.  It honestly was the best entertainment all day, except Diego kicking Luther’s ass maybe.  That was _brilliant!_ ”  A shit eating grin spread on his face that only spread as Vanya paled.

“That wasn’t _sexual tension_ ,” she said as she swallowed hard as she shifted from foot to foot.

“Oh, sweet little sister yes it was, and you two honestly gave Luther and Allison a run for their money.”  She felt herself suck in a shaky breath.  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell, I’m just feeling nosy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said her voice small.  “We’ve always been like that,” she sighed.

“Well, if you ever want advice that won’t be spread around, you know who to talk to.”  His brown hair, _black really_ , she thought _,_ was wild sticking in every direction as swished his skirt.  She felt the air rush out of her lungs before she registered the relief.

“Thank you,” she said almost a whisper.  “Actually, I’m leaving, I already called a taxi.”

“I’ll tell everyone, stay safe Vee-vee.”  He waved his _goodbye_ hand and dramatically turned around towards the kitchen.

_At least it was just Klaus,_ she thought taking in a deep breath as she waited. She ran a shaky hand through her wet brown hair.  _It could have been Five, or even worse Allison.  Thank god it wasn’t them._ She forced herself to breathe and take one of her pills.  _Besides, that was how he always is recently, unless he’s at the end of his patrol, then he’s **almost** kind.  Almost._

When she heard Pogo she turned around, answered his questions the best she could, and rushed outside into her cab.  She felt her phone buzz in her back pocket.  The cracked phone she hadn't bothered to replace the screen on lighting up in her hand with two messages from Diego.

_Leave your window unlocked._

_Please?_

She hesitated then sighed, _at least he gave notice this time.  And, he said please._   Her pale shaking hands typed out the only word they could.

_Okay._

She hoped she wouldn’t regret this later, like most things.


	3. Chapter 2: Vanya's Very Very Bad Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let me tell you the saddest story  
> Love lost left broken and empty  
> Put my heart in the hands of another  
> Set a fire to the past and watch me burn”  
> -Wage War “Johnny Cash- Stripped”

Vanya always valued privacy, which is why she was slightly upset that Five had randomly appeared in her apartment.  Lounging on her arm chair, as if he owned the place.  _I just wanted some sleep before Diego got here, I guess that’s not happening._ She thought and released a slow breath.  _He would only come if it were important._

“Jesus, you should have locks on your windows.”  He said a frown on his face.

“I live on the second floor,” she said dazed and confused from everything that had happened, the fact he hadn’t just warped in, and that he was _here_.  Really, truly, here, that today wasn’t a hallucination.

He just shrugged in response, his school uniform pressed and clean as the day he left.  Hazel eyes studying her.  “Rapists can _climb.”_   He said his tone flat.

“You’re so weird,” she said as she shrugged off her black coat onto her coat rack, shaking her head.  _What’s so urgent he broke into my apartment like Diego?_   The thought caused her to physically jump as she rushed over to her window unlocking it.  _Fuck, I almost forgot about that._   She plopped onto the couch opposite him, and only once she had relaxed into the couch had she notice his arm.  “Is that blood?”  _That wrapping will have to do for now, at least._

His jaw clenched, “It’s nothing.”  His eyes avoiding hers, eyeing the bookshelves covering the corner next to him.

Her eyebrows lifted at his response, then rolled her eyes, got the medkit from under her sink, and the isopropyl alcohol from her medicine cabinet.  _Those two are way to alike sometimes, at least **he** doesn’t try that shit anymore._

“Sit and stay still, it’s gonna sting.”  She cleaned the wound and put a healthy dose of Neosporin on and rewrapped his arm.  She looked him in the eyes, steeling herself, _Diego is scarier than he is, you can do this_.  “Why are you here?”

“Because of the apocalypse, you know what I found when I got trapped?”

_Get to the point,_ was her first thought.  _I knew I was right, it is important._  Was the second.  “What?” The weariness in her voice was palpable.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing but the date it happened and that I was the only one left.”  His tone was measured, heavy with whatever it was he experienced.  “It wasn’t until much later, right before I came back actually, that I found out anything.”

“Why are you telling _me_ this?”  She rubbed the arm of her white sweater trying to expel the urge to run.

“Because, you’re the one used to cause it.” 

Her blood ran cold, “I wouldn’t, why would I ever, I don’t even, _what the fuck Five?”_  She said each stammer getting louder until she practically screamed at him.  Her eyes dropping to the floor.

He raised his hand up in surrender, “Let me rephrase, someone, somehow _, realized you have powers_ and decided to twist you until you _broke_.  Somehow releasing them and destroying the moon in the process.”  His tense body took a deep breath, “someone used you and I know who, I’ll deal with them, but I need you to stop taking your medication dad gave you, I think it’s repressing them.” 

All Vanya could feel was static, her mind was numb, a million thoughts ran through her mind.  But the most prominent was _why? Why would you tell me this?  I don’t have powers, I’m ordinary, why would dad lie to me like that?  Why?_

When she finally reached his gaze, tears were in her eyes, and they _burned_.  “I kill everyone,” she said barely squeaking it out, and broke down, it was all too much too fast.  Her vision narrowed.  _Dad’s dead, Five is back from it, and I kill everyone._

“No did you even listen?  It wasn’t your fault, you weren’t right in the head, he used you and you broke.  Your mind split and you weren’t in control anymore.”

“I’m a monster,” she said between sobs, “I’m so weak, I let someone stranger use me.” She said, unable to hold herself back from the violent wave of tears and unsteady breathing that followed.

Five inhaled sharply, she felt his dark eyes pierce into her as he let out a sharp sigh. “Why’d you unlock the window?”

Vanya froze, _I can’t lie to Five; he’ll see right though it._  She thought, _why is everyone prying today anyway?  Why can’t they just ignore me like they always do?_   She thought as she rubbed her face. _It’s nothing to be ashamed of, but some boundaries would be nice._   She took in a sputtering breath and wiped her eyes, “Diego’s coming by.”

“And the window needs to be open because?”  He said leaving a trailing pause after he finished and waved his hands in the air for an explanation.

Her dark brown eyes stared at her patchwork couch.  “He asked me to leave it open.”  She said, not wanting to talk about that was how he normally came in, and why her window locks sucked.  _Please drop it, please let him just drop it,_ she thought, _please God, whatever’s out there, let him drop it, I want some part of my life private._

Apparently, God didn’t feel merciful.

“So you just let him in through the window?  Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said wearily.

A tense silence filed the air until Five stood up.  “I’ll get going,” his voice sturdy leaving no room for discussion.  “You’ll be at the house tomorrow after practice, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice shaking.

He opened the door and teleported out.

She forced herself to relax into the couch and her hands picked at her shirt.  _I’m a monster,_ was all she could think, the thought stuck on repeat like a broken record as the time ticked by. It was at 3 a.m. when she heard her window’s distinct _click!  Right on time,_ she thought.  _It’s been what, two and a half maybe three hours since Five left?_

She felt Diego sink into her couch.

“Who made you cry?”  That was all Diego had to say before she burst into another round of tears.  His black clad arms wrapped around her, his warmth surrounding her.  Her head buried in his shoulder, calloused fingers running through her hair.

“I’m a _monster_ ,” was all she could say, her voice cracking as she whispered.

She heard Diego swallow hard and lift her face gently.  His eyes were scorching, burning through her, turning the ever-present guilt of existing into ash. “You’re not.”  His tone firm as he wiped away her tears.  “Who the hell told you that?”

She took a shaky breath.  _In and out, Vee.  In and out._ “Five, and apparently, _I’m_ the one who causes the apocalypse.”

_“What!”_


End file.
